Aged Seven and a Half
by Mooncheese
Summary: The Marauders at aged seven, going to bed in their seperate 'worlds'. A look at how different their lives really are.


They were fighting again.

Seven year old Sirius huddled under his cover, arms wrapped tightly round his younger brother, burying his face in his long black hair. From downstairs there came a scream, a curse, then a resounding slap. Under his arms, Sirius could feel Regulas start shaking, huddling further into his arms as though Sirius could protect him from those horrible noises coming from downstairs.

Sirius held him tighter, closing his eyes, holding down the edge of the blanket with one hand. It was getting horribly hot in his bed, especially for Reggie, yet both of them knew there was no way they were moving. His brother's body shook with suppressed sobs as the powerful, angry roar of their father came up from downstairs, mingled with their mothers high pitched shrieks.

She was defying him again. Sirius shuddered at the thought, trying desperately to block his ears against the raised, screaming voices downstairs. Their father was a man who liked his wife and kids to know their place, and God help them if they didn't perform according to his wishes. Soon he would be pushed over the limit, and there would come the fateful incantation, roared by their father, then the strangled, agonised yells of their mother…

From beside him, Regulas gave a shaky breath. "Why's mummy so naughty to father?" he whispered, his voice wavering from whispers to barely audible. Sirius held him tighter and didn't reply. He didn't understand it himself. Why did their mother keep annoying their father, when she knew it would result in her getting hurt? For they all knew the woman's place was beneath her husband…why did she have to defy him? Why? Sirius shook his head, feeling his head clash with Reggie's. When they were lying like this he couldn't tell where his hair ended and Reggie's began, for both had their mothers midnight black hair.

For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to have another life, to be someone else's kid. But then, he thought, it wouldn't be so much different. After all, didn't everyone else's parents act that way? Didn't they? Sirius pondered over the matter, as he lay there with his brother long into the night.

Was there anyone out there who's parents didn't act this way?

0o0

"James! Quit fooling around and get your pyjamas on!"

Seven and a half year old James Potter laughed out loud at his mothers frustrated face, pyjama trousers very firmly planted on his head. "But they _are _on!" he giggled, waving around his night shirt like a flag. "Look, see? They're on my head!"

His mother darted at him, but he skipped out of her reach. His mother turned round, her eyes popping.

"James Potter! I'm giving you ten seconds to put those pyjamas on properly and get into bed! Ten…" she held up ten fingers, glaring at him. "Nine…"

James sighed exaggeratedly, but knew his mother well enough to stop fooling around now. Sulkily, he pulled the trousers off his head, stuffed himself into the shirt and ran through the door into his bedroom.

"Seven…six…" his mother continued, watching him beadily from the doorway. James paused to poke his tongue out at her, then climbed into bed, pulling his broomstick-patterned duvet up to his chin. His mother nodded grimly and stopped counting.

"Thank you, James. Now stay there, okay?" At his nod, she came forwards into his room, stopping for a moment to flick on the night-light. She bent down and kissed her son on the forehead. "Good-night, pet."

"Night, mum," James muttered in reply, watching as his mother turned and walked out the room, switching out the main light as she went, plunging the room into darkness.

But he still had his night-light. James turned to look at that, stroking his pillow with sleepy fingers. Outside, the rising full moon sent silver blades of light onto his head, but he didn't notice. Within minutes he had fallen into a peaceful sleep.

0o0

Remus Lupin was experiencing anything but a peaceful sleep. He sat with his arms locked round his knees, sweat beginning to drip down his forehead. Ten minutes to go.

The door creaked open, and he jumped and looked round in wild-eyed panic. His five year old sister Rain was standing in the doorway, her small hands hanging nervously onto the door handle. For a moment she stood in silence, then came hesitantly towards him. Remus leapt to his feet, holding his hands out to stop her getting any closer.

"What are you _doing_, Rain?"

"Russy," she said, reverting to her name for him even though she could perfectly pronounce 'Remus' by now, "I just wanted to give you something."

She took from behind her back a limp-looking teddy bear and held it out to him. "It's my Mr. Bear, Russ. So you don't feel scared." She bit her lip, looking at him. "Does it hurt, Russy? When you turn into a wolf?" Her bottom lip was starting to tremble. "I don't like you getting hurt." She looked as though she was on the brink of tears, and Remus hastened to comfort her.

"Of course it doesn't hurt." He hesitated. "I think you should look after Mr. Bear tonight, Rain." But his sister was getting closer, pressing the teddy into his hands.

"No! I want you to have him!" She smiled at him, and Remus felt his resistance wobble. But he knew if he accepted his sisters favourite teddy now, it would end up in shreds by the morning. He dithered, looking at the clock. Five minutes to go.

Then he had an idea. "Ok, Rain," he said gently, cradling the bear to his chest, "I'll look after him tonight. But you have to go now." He pushed his sister out the garage door, and she went willingly enough, but Remus hadn't missed the single tear tolling down her cheek.

He sighed, then shut the door, locking it from the inside. He stood still for a moment, holding the toy to his face, then walked forwards in a decided manner, opening up his fathers tool box and gently laying Mr. Bear inside it.

"Night night, Mr Bear," he muttered, stroking the teddy's bobbly fur, "I'll try and keep you safe." With that he closed the lid and locked it, placing the box on the highest shelf he could find.

When he had finished he returned to his original place, back against the wall, arms wrapped round his legs. He glanced up at the clock, felt his heart give a sickening lurch.

One minute to go.

0o0

Peter Pettigrew knelt in his bedroom, stroking his toy niffler and muttering to it. His bedroom was as silent and empty as a tomb, but he still had his Henry, his Henry the niffler. Henry could make it better. Henry listened to him.

"I don't think Mum's very happy with me today," he whispered sorrowfully, "I made her mad when I picked up that slug in the garden. She made me drop it." He gave a huge, desperate sniff. "And then she stamped on it, Henry! She stamped on my slug!"

The niffler's glass eyes gazed up at him with an empty expression, but Peter carried on stroking him, unaware of his dribbling nose or wet eyes. "I r-really _like _slugs, Henry. And mum killed it." He sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "You understand, don't you? You like slugs too, don't you?"

Henry remained silent, not replying. Peter picked him up and hugged him tight.

"I thought you did. But don't worry. Tomorrow we'll go out and rescue _all _the little slugs and bugs and things in the garden. Then mum can't kill any of them ever again." He smiled slightly, comforted at the thought, then stood up and walked over to his bed, climbing unsteadily up the little set of steps provided at the side. After snuggling down under his cover, he gave Henry a last squeeze, then set him to the side of his pillow.

"Night, Henry," he whispered, before dropping off into a light and uneasy sleep.

0o0

The night carried on, playing host to the sleep of four seven year old boys, whether it be uneasy, restful or barely sleep all. The world continued to turn, and their lives carried on living, counting down the days until the day they would all go to Hogwarts, and meet each other, until they became the Marauders each of them already were in their hearts.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Okaaaaay…that was unexpected. I'm not really sure where that came from. But still, what did you think? Was it good? Bad? Crap? Tell me in a review. It's always nice to have feedback, you know…hint, hint…;)

Love to you all,

Mooncheese xx


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